Truth to Power
by HeronS
Summary: After Journey to Babel, Sarek happens upon his son's medical records, listing all the injuries he has received during his time in Starfleet. This leads to a tense confrontation with Kirk about loyalty, trust, and who should be allowed to wield power.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: I'm still working on the last chapter of Object of Study. But this sort of just popped out and demanded to be written._

 _Summary: After Journey to Babel, Sarek happens upon his son's medical records, listing all the injuries he has received during his time in Starfleet. It leads to a tense confrontation with Kirk about loyalty, trust, and who should be allowed to wield power._

 **Truth to Power - chapter 1**

 _...First, second, third degree burns. Broken legs, broken clavicle. Methodically broken fingers. Arrow wounds. Knife wounds… Disruptor burns on torso, arms, back…_

A part of McCoy was outraged that he'd just been thrown out of his own office. He should go back in there, tell a few truths to power.

Another part was desperately relieved to be anywhere but inside that room, with that man.

The Ambassador had only said _You will leave me_ , but as McCoy had begun to protest, to reach toward the computer terminal to turn it off, he had raised his gaze and it had bored into the doctor like a laser beam. It was a gaze that accepted nothing but compliance, a gaze that was infinitely controlled, and yet had woken such a sense of dread in the Human that he could feel his throat constrict.

Sarek of Vulcan was known throughout the Federation, and beyond, for his unconditional integrity and dedication. Unlike many other ambassadors, whose main skill was being likeable and friendly, it did not matter if you liked the Vulcan. You were certain that Sarek would not bluff, had no personal agenda, was eminently unbribable. That gaze had brought rooms of enraged combatants to silence, and swayed Council sessions. You would trust Sarek, because anything else seemed unthinkable under that gaze. And right then, McCoy had trusted that his choices had been to either get out immediately or have his neck broken.

He leaned heavily on the door for a moment, as the implications of what the Vulcan Ambassador was doing, was seeing, fully registered on his mind. Then he shook himself, and felt the effect of the Ambassador's displeasure ( _fury? anguish? Am I projecting emotions on him, treating him like a Human parent?_ ) diminish somewhat with time and distance.

He went in search of Kirk.

* * *

The captain had recovered from his knife wound, and had been discharged only an hour before, mainly because Spock was having a bad reaction to the medicine and McCoy thought that the fretting was not helping Jim's recovery. The captain had immediately been set upon by crewmembers wielding datapads full of the red tape that, as sure as antimatter, seemed to drive any Federation starship. With both the captain and first officer in sickbay, the stuff had seemed to reproduce faster than tribbles. Kirk had made it out in the corridor and halfway to the turbolift before capitulating and retreating into a nearby briefing room. He'd built a little wall of the pads on the table in front of him, and was hunched behind it with a cold cup of coffee in his hand. When the doctor entered, he received a weak smile of relief, that then immediately turned to concern.

"How's…"

"He's not doing any worse. It's just an allergy to the blood medication, we've got it covered."

But McCoy's voice was harsh and Kirk's eyes narrowed.

"Then why are you coming in here looking like you have a death notice for me?"

McCoy hesitated, and then decided that there simply was no good way broach the subject.

"Yeah. I've screwed up." When he grew silent, Kirk gave him a concerned look and a _go on_ -gesture.

"What's going on, Bones?"

"It's Sarek. I told him about Spock's allergic reaction to the blood stimulation drug, how it was difficult for me to decipher some medical reports from his childhood that mentioned something related. Those Vulcan reports are very detailed, but the medical information is interwoven with all these weird terms about telepathic responses: they don't see the reason to differentiate you know…"

"Bones... You're digressing. What's the matter with the Ambassador?" Kirk's voice was filled with tired frustration. They had managed to get their many diplomatic passengers to within a single day from the upcoming conclave at Babel and what would by all accounts be a historic event in Federation history. So far the journey had included a murdered diplomat; a captured spy; Ambassador Sarek's heart attack, subsequent surgery and dramatic blood transfusion from his son; and Kirk getting stabbed and nearly dying. As the patients in sickbay got better under McCoy's care, Kirk had started to hope that things would, just for once, get a bit easier. It was nice to have the luxury of focusing on fuel consumption problems. Pleasant, even.

"Sarek offered to help. He can move around now, and I thought being confined to his biobed was making him restless. I saw no harm in it, he has the same eidetic memory as Spock, I'm sure he could quote his son's entire medical history at the drop of a dime. I left him at the computer in my study."

"I don't see the problem Bones... Sarek doing something to help his son, I'd think you'd be ecstatic." The estrangement between Spock and his father had been palpable. Sarek had not approved Spock's of entry into Starfleet, all those years ago, and had given his son an ultimatum. Sarek did not bluff. Neither did Spock, and the result of those two uncompromising forces colliding had led to Spock leaving Vulcan and not speaking to his father for 17 years.

McCoy looked anguished. "I forgot about his access rights, Jim. He's the Vulcan ambassador to the Federation, for heaven's sake! I came back, I swear I was only gone for a minute, and I didn't even recognize the interface anymore. It's all text and numbers now, Vulcan symbols scrolling incredibly fast. But I did figure out that he was looking at Spock's medical history of the last few years."

"That... I don't know Bones, it seems legitimate...?"

"Yeah. And how would your mother react if she saw your medical records, Jim? The full ones, no censorship, no classified restrictions."

The question brought Kirk up short. He blinked. Then he sighed and leaned back.

"How's he reacting?"

"Well, he threw me out. As in, he told me "you will leave" and gave me a look that made me feel like a... I didn't start breathing again until I was at the other end of sickbay. Jim, I've seen Spock angry. I mean, really angry, the kind where he's all rigid, and his eyes become dark pools that make others want to run away or kneel down. It was like that, except, more. Look, he's Spock's father. I can't begin to think what I'd do if I saw lists of injuries like Spock's had the last few years on a report on Joanna. In fact, I won't ever have to think about it, because any doctor worth his tricorder would never let me see those records, being her father. And there's a damn good reason for that."

"Bones, Sarek's a Vulcan. A very Vulcan Vulcan. Maybe you're projecting…"

Bones shook his head. Talking to Kirk, getting more distance form that gaze, was clearing his mind. "Don't try that hobby psychologist stuff on me, Jim. I know what I'm talking about. He's a parent, he gave his son an ultimatum, and saw him take off to starfleet. And now he's looking at a list of damage and injury that's a direct result of that. The kind of lists that we keep from the public for a damn good reason. And Vulcan or not, I bet you anything that Sarek is thinking that if it wasn't for things that he did or didn't do in the past, his son wouldn't be out here at the risk of painful death every other week.

* * *

 _Author's note: And now... time for some confrontation. We can't hide from the Vulcan Ambassador forever. :) Please leave a review!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Truth to Power - Chapter 2**

. _..Poison. Blindness. Drowning. Severe frostbite. Dehydration. Water in the lungs, an hour long struggle for painful breath and survival. Almost dead from radiation. Actual death from primitive ballistic weapons - Dr McCoy had brought Spock back to life twice on the surgical table..._

The Ambassador did not look up as Kirk entered McCoy's office. He had effortlessly appropriated all screens in the small room, they were now slaves to the main terminal, obediently showing different medical records. The interface had turned half Vulcan script, half just symbolic, but the content text was in Standard, and Kirk recognized a description of torture injuries from a Klingon mind sifter. On a smaller screen were a summary of major injuries.

 _...Lacerations from a lash…_

Kirk knew his own litany looked the same, but he'd deliberately chosen to think of it as a list of triumphs. Defeating death, their technology winning over the primitive nociceptive system in his body. But what would it look like to a parent? He still wasn't sure that Bones hadn't been projecting a Human understanding of parental norms on their Vulcan guest. Jim didn't know how to proceed, didn't know what was needed here, much less welcome. He opted for honesty. And decided to try for, however much it went against his natural inclination on this ship, deference.

"Ambassador, may I speak to you?"

Sarek always projected power, and Jim had seen him easily dominate any room he wished during the voyage to the Babel conference. That usually set the captain on edge... Jim purposefully tried to be aware of that, to resist that, now.

The older Vulcan did not look up at him, eyes focused on the screen. Or rather, at some point beyond it. He was standing behind McCoy's desk, long robes flowing around him. His stillness made Kirk think of Roman statues, of stone cloaks carved so expertly that they would seem like falling cloth. When Sarek spoke, his voice exuded only control, not a hint emotion.

"Are these records indicative of what a starfleet officer might typically face in the service?"

Kirk took a few steps further into the room, and saw that the central screen in front of Sarek held a medical journal entry, an appended tricorder video hovering in the upper right corner. Sarek had paused the video. It took Kirk a few moments to place the verdant green scenery - Terpsichore III, three weeks ago, a First Contact snatched from the jaws of tragedy. He'd consider it a success, albeit it a costly one. Several major injuries, but no fatalities. Yes, a success.

"Yes and no, Ambassador. First planetfall on unknown planets are the greatest risk, but that risk is spread out unevenly. Our security officers have to face a great deal out on the frontier. Most of our crew are specialists and scientists, they analyze data and rarely make it into any risky landing parties. "

"Spock was trained to be a scientist." Again, a commanding, but emotionless, observation. Kirk pressed down his irritation at the remark. There was no way Sarek could be unaware of the praise that Spock's work in physics and mathematical data analysis had garnered. _Trained to be..._

"He is. And also a command officer, sir. Both I and your son believe in leading by example: we hesitate to send our people anywhere that we're not also going ourselves. Your son is one of the most loyal persons I have ever met. His research staff knows this, and responds in kind. The scientific discoveries they have made..." his voice faltered when the Ambassador looked up at him, and then Kirk could only fully sympathize with his CMO. He fought down a fight or flight response, instead deciding to meet the gaze head on, shoulders squared. _Calm and control. Calm and control._ He considered that if this was what Spock had had to deal with daily, during those last tense years before the half-Vulcan left his home to travel the stars, it fully explained his composure. The man in front of him was terrifyingly imposing, and even though his face was seemingly passive, his displeasure made the room vibrate.

"Science, Kirk, is the careful application of a pre-decided methodology to a hypothesis. This is not a list of injuries my son should expect in the service of science. These are the expected rewards of a barbaric use of force and violence to expand an area of control, where claims to the pursuit of knowledge is a tattered excuse for unthinking, thrill seeking adventures about the galaxy."

Kirk felt a surge of adrenaline, an old familiar intensity, at the challenge. Sarek might be still as a mountain, his voice seemingly pointing out stark facts, but his words were designed to strike at an opponent. Kirk's people's lives, their deaths, their pain, their beliefs and ideals, all invalidated, claimed to be a mockery of all that they stood for.

He ruthlessly dismissed the instinctive response, and as he sought for that _calm and control_ , he was struck by two things. The first, that the fact that he was able to do this, to turn aside from an aggressive protective response, was a gift from his friendship with Spock. The second, that for all his seeming impassivity, Sarek's reactions were at their foundation passionately emotional. The Vulcan was flinging charged adjectives at him rather than cold, clear, stripped nouns. And the way he had said _my son_ …

Consciously imitating his First Officer, Kirk clasped his hands behind his back, and simply regarded the other man in silence. Waiting. He refused to engage with the other's intense gaze. _Calm and control._ The slight flicker of Sarek's eyes when he turned back to the screen told him that his adamant refusal to be provoked into an angry display of protectiveness for his crew, his mission and starfleet had been the right choice.

After a moment of silence, Sarek continued. He indicated the screen in front of him. "This particular mission to Terpischore III is clearly a case in point. Not only were many Federation scientists, in which much has been invested, hurt. This ship's crew also used injurious force against a sentient race. Many have told me that Starfleet has long been without proper oversight, given dangerous leeway on the Federation's frontier. I have resisted taking charge of the regulatory committee, thinking it a lesser matter. I shall have to re-evaluate. Starfleet's mandate to act on behalf of the Federation rests on its insistence that its main goal is peaceful, non-intruding exploration. If its officers are not capable of adhering to that, the scope of that mandate shall clearly have to be amended."

Kirk blinked at this casual display of political power, reminding himself that this was not only the matter of dealing with a distraught parent. Sarek was the Ambassador from Earth's oldest ally, and he, Kirk, was the captain of the flagship of the Earth dominated starfleet. Things said in this room could have wide-flung consequences. He sought his words with care.

"Ambassador, while I do not agree with your characterization of Starfleet's missions, I would more than welcome a stronger involvement of Vulcan in its management. I, for one, would be grateful for your guidance. We seek to be explorers and guardians, not conquerors and soldiers. And if we... when we... fail, when we end up in violent confrontations, I hope that we can learn from it afterwards. I do not think we are so lost, our ethics so beyond salvage, that we must cease or diminish our explorations. And I would not think that you agreed with those Vulcans who say that we are."

Sarek didn't react, but Kirk knew that those words had to have had an effect. _Those Vulcans_ were the isolationists, the radical pacifists who believed Vulcan should not support the war-mongering Terrans. And who frequently and publicly claimed that the surest sign of outside contamination in Vulcan society was Sarek's Human wife, Amanda, and their hybrid… half-breed… son. He continued,

"I ask you to believe me when I say that the injuries of the natives of Terpsichore III, or your son's injuries, need not be seen as symptomatic of unthinking aggression on our part. Many of these injuries were gained in protection of other beings, be it protection of their lives or way of life. Others are from our explorations of this universe - a dangerous, risky endeavor. But one that is no different from what the Vulcan Science Academy does on its own ships."

"You think that if Spock would have been on an Academy ship, any of this would have been the result?" Sarek nodded once to the display. The question clearly rhetorical. _I have to turn this into a discussion, not a debate,_ thought Kirk.

"I don't know. Probably the list would be shorter. Academy ships usually come months or years after us, Ambassador. We are the first wave, the original explorers. Your son writes reports that inform the research policies of dozens, if not hundreds, of worlds. Someone has to be on that first landing party, beaming down into the dangerous unknown. I wish we had more people like Spock out here. I wish we had more, not fewer, Vulcans in general."

He hesitated for a second, more reluctant than usual to follow instinctive ideas. Then he shook it off - he'd never be able to plan a rhetorical plan of attack better than Sarek. His power came from instinct and inspiration, and they rarely let him down. (Though, when they did, it was usually in a pretty dramatic fashion…) He stepped closer to the desk, and the frozen video in one corner of the screen.

The scene was a clearing to the west of the primary planetfall site, an ocean of green moss interspersed with immense reddish trees, their leaves like red drooping daggers. A complex interwoven root system formed the entrance of a cave of a sort, its interior a dark contrast to the sunlit forest around it.

The recording ensign had just taken shelter in a bluish shrub. The video angle of the still picture was tilted, the graphical algorithm had not yet had time to compensate. Spock and two blue clad science personnel - a lieutenant and a specialist, first class - were in the process of falling backwards near the mouth of the tree cave. Kirk knew that they had been hit by an energy beam just moments before, that had led the lieutenant to fire her phaser into the cave at the strange shapes that had hovered there and drawn the exploration party's interest. The energy beam had then returned, much more powerful. Sarek had frozen the recording just as they fell, but the text in the report next to the video frame told the rest of the story.

 _...Third degree burns, minor cerebral hemorrhages. Systems failure in the specialist that only a heroic effort by Dr. M'Benga had turned from sure death to triumphant awakening…_

Kirk remembered how Spock had shook with pain when the landing party had gotten back to the Enterprise. He'd forced himself not to reach out to support his friend as he made his way to sickbay, realizing that an onslaught of worry from Kirk would only make matters worse for the touch telepath.

But he also remembered something else.

"Ambassador, I think you should let the recording run."

* * *

 _Author's note: Two more chapters after this one. Please leave a short review 3 !_


	3. Chapter 3

**Truth to Power - Chapter 3.**

The Ambassador seemed to hesitate - but it was over so quickly that Kirk conceded that it might just as well have been his own imagination. Then the Vulcan simply said "Very well" and toggled a control.

The stillness of the recorded scene disappeared into sudden emotion. The recording ensign slid further into the bush, the three crew by the cave were thrown to the ground. Spock and the lieutenant managed to roll with the fall, but the specialist fell hard and lay still. Spock's shout to the lieutenant came too late - she rolled up on her feet, reached for her phaser and managed to fire off two shots before she was hit again with a green beam emanating from the cave. Kirk grimaced, he could see smoke rising from her, limbs sprawled in twisted wrongness on the ground.

Spock had tumbled over a fallen log during his fall, and was now pressed up against it, slightly shielded from the cave and whatever was sending out that beam. His uniform's left sleeve looked like it had been hit with acid, and when he moved to look up over the log, it was clear that his arm wasn't responding.

Spock moved, cautiously so as not to provoke or be a target for the beams, towards his fallen subordinates and did a quick tricorder sweep. Still alive. The tricorder video bounced some, and Kirk knew that it was because the Ensign had received some terse written commands from the Science Officer to keep low and follow his lead.

Spock kneeled down by the fallen log. He was breathing rapidly, one hand clenched, the other shaking as he made an adjustment to his tricorder. Other than that, he held still.

"He's sending out a distress signal - officers down, approach with extreme caution." Kirk explained.

Tense stillness reigned for about a minute and then something glittered in the air at the entrance to the cave. It looked like a floating soap bubble, but with angular shapes that made Kirk think of a classically cut diamond. Light bent through the membrane, refracting in a rainbow of alien colors that swept the area. Then there were two of them, then four, then eight. The shapes moved cautiously out of the cave. If it hadn't been for the way they spread out, a herd or flock taking over an area, you might almost mistake them for just blowing in the wind.

The diamonds floated over to the fallen specialist, and Spock cautiously freed his phaser, having it at the ready. The shapes didn't touch the fallen tellarite, however, just hovered over him, flocking, light flashing between them in rapid patterns. Sarek's head tilted at this, and Kirk could see how the Vulcan's eyes became alert.

Other diamonds had approached Spock's log, and drew back like a flock of scattered birds when they found him behind it. The Science Officer held still, tricorder sensors humming.

It took a few minutes before the diamonds drew closer to Spock again. Kirk knew from the debriefing that keeping still with injured subordinates on the ground had not been an easy choice for Spock. It had been one of those field decisions that no one could - or no one _should_ \- criticize who hadn't been there. The aliens were clearly potentially lethal, but also skittish, and it was unclear if the first energy surge had been a defense of their territory, aggression or, hell, simply the way they said hello to their friends.

Finally, the diamonds encircled Spock, almost touching. Cautiously he reached out, ready to pull back in an instance, and spread his trembling left hand towards one of them. Sarek stiffened, but didn't make any remark as he saw his son instigate a mind meld, the first contact between the Hathani and the Federation. It took only a few seconds before the whole glade was awash with a rainbow of color, some of which hurt Kirk's eyes even coming from the recording. Most of the diamonds swirled upwards, forming complex patterns. The one that Spock had touched stayed down close to the ground, and a few others had flown to the fallen officers, bathing them in a soft, warm light. A flash of red in the background showed a security officer taking up a position, talking quietly but intensely into a communicator. Spock opened his eyes, and looked up at the dancing diamonds. The look of wonder in those eyes made Kirk smile affectionately, but then he glanced toward the older Vulcan in concern. How would Sarek react to that?

He needn't have been worried. It was slighter, but Kirk could see the same look hidden in Sarek's eyes - dampened by nearly a century of Vulcan control and unacknowledged worry about his son, the Human thought, but still there. Like his son, Sarek was a fundamentally a scientist, and very much an explorer of new worlds and new civilizations. "The beings are forming fractal patterns" Sarek murmured, a hand reaching for a pad and a stylus, jotting down a mathematical formula.

Kirk nodded "Yes. They're not much for building things and machines, but Spock tells me mathematics is their natural language. They're delighted to have met us, and want to go everywhere and talk to everyone, preferably yesterday."

The recording froze of its own accord. Sarek was still scribbling mathematical formulas, but turned his eyes back to the captain, clearly having no problems multitasking. Kirk pressed on.

"That distress signal that Spock sent out… Our regulations and mandate would have also allowed him to send 'officers down, hostiles encountered, priority evac' which would have brought a ton of firepower down on that meadow. I think it surprises neither of us that Spock didn't chose the latter, but it might surprise you that our officers in general usually err on the side of caution and non-aggression. I urge you to study our mission logs on the matter - you clearly have no problem with access rights."

If Sarek noticed that Kirk's voice had gotten a little dry, he gave no sign of it. His gaze was impassive again, and no matter how good Kirk had become at interpreting his First's body language, this was at an entirely different level. Sarek's silent assessment of him managed at the same time to not reveal anything of the Vulcan's thoughts, but made the captain feel as if his mind was being casually read.

Kirk realized that before this, the Ambassador's main focus had been on the medical reports and their implications - now that focus had shifted to the captain himself. A memory flashed through his mind: the Academy, the last semester, being a green cadet facing a dreaded oral exam by an eternally unimpressed older admiral. _But I'm not. I'm the flagship captain. And... I'm very calm and very much in control.._ At the same time that he told himself that, he wondered drily why he had ever thought that turning this into a discussion would be a good idea. But the only way was forward.

"You are mistaken if you believe that this is primarily about Spock, captain." _Yeah, sure it isn't,_ Kirk thought, as Sarek continued. "His injuries, and by inference the injuries he has inflicted on others, are merely symptomatic of the real problem. Enterprise's scientific missions aside, this ship is often called on to do battle with the other powers. Your reputation shows that you do not hesitate to engage in such hostilities. Violence does not end violence. It merely moves it. When your ships establish dominance over a region of space, pushing out Orion pirates and Klingon raiders, these people move somewhere else, prey on other victims."

 _Your ships…_ "They're your ships too, Ambassador." Kirk snapped. "They make sure that Vulcan is safe, that the isolationists on Vulcan are safe enough to be able to complain about starfleet."

Sarek raised an eyebrow, and Kirk faltered a bit as he realized that he had made an error. _Calm and control._ He would not want to defend the position that reaping the un-asked for benefits of military protection meant that people were not allowed to oppose military action. But Sarek made a small dismissive gesture, as if considering that particular rhetorical point far too easy to cash in. Relieved, and a bit grateful, which was probably what Sarek intended, Kirk changed the topic:

"But yes, in a sense I agree with you. A big sign with _Under Starfleet Protection_ over a planet can make bad guys move on to its undefended neighbor instead. But surely that's why we can't stop going out there. Extending the safety net, finding more of those civilisations. We can't stop trying because the task seems too vast. Didn't Surak say that if nothing you do matters, then the only thing that matters is what you do?"

That actually made Sarek blink, and Kirk thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a sense of approval in his eyes. A small sense. "That is a rather unorthodox translation, but in essence, yes. I did not know that they taught the earlier writings of Surak at Starfleet Academy."

"They don't, or at least not as much as they should. But your son does. To me. To the crew. Quotes, perspectives, and most of the time just by example. And also in the way he mentors his junior officers. The science officers of Exeter and Tian An Men are Enterprise trained, among many others. As is the new chief of staff for the secretary for intergalactic policy. This is the flagship, Ambassador. The waves we start here reach a long way. We are soldiers, yes, but we are scientists and teachers, too."

"Evidently." Sarek said dryly with a very direct look at the younger man. _Was that criticism? Or a compliment?_ Kirk decided that he would treat it as the latter, took a deep breath, and forged on.

"But this is not, to me, a philosophical matter. Or not only. I have lost too many good people on this voyage, Ambassador, and if you don't think that doesn't weigh heavily on me… I assess risk and reward every day, and I am painfully aware that the risk I gamble with are often the lives of others. I make mistakes, and there is a part of me that view every single entry on that list…" he stabbed a finger at the screens, aware that _calm and control_ was suddenly becoming very hard indeed, "...as my personal failing. And if I ever stop that, yes, I might turn into that thrill and conflict seeking dictator, armed with a highly mobile weapon of mass destruction and all the corrupt power, that you imply. I can only hope and pray that Spock will be there then, and stop me."

"Would he? I have heard that you are friends." The question was direct and unexpected, a complete change of tack, and Kirk was suddenly not only far too emotional for a debate against this very Vulcan Vulcan, but also heading into unknown, perilous territory. _When I feel friendship for you, I am ashamed,_ Spock had once said, under the influence of a particularly nasty mental virus. Had his father taught him that? Everyone knew Vulcans did not have friends.

Kirk took a moment to think. Sarek watched him, a paragon of patience. Then the captain shrugged. He didn't know enough to spin this, to modify the truth for cultural taboos.

"We are. It's one of the best things of my life. I'd like to think that we share… an unconditional loyalty."

"Spock was once taught that peace is the only true foundation for a just society, and that personal attachment invariably corrupts. To paraphrase a Terran idiom, personal attachment corrupts, and unconditional personal attachment corrupts unconditionally. If that is the case, why should we trust you with this power?" Kirk reflected that it was unclear if _you_ meant him, him and Spock, or Starfleet in general. But Sarek had not censored Spock having friends in general, which was something. Whether he believed that the Humans on the Enterprise were good candidates was still very much unclear.

"It's a catchy paraphrase, but I don't know if I believe it. Personal attachment is an invariable result when Humans learn and teach. As I learn from Spock, be it about high dimensional Sitter typology or the ethics of Surak, I form an attachment to him. I hope that we bring out the best in each other. I certainly know that he does in me. And you don't need to worry about your son's ethics being corrupted by friendship, Ambassador. I admit that I trip every once in awhile, and he's never been coy about confronting me. Unconditional loyalty doesn't mean blind obedience or uncritical following. To me, unconditional loyalty means that the other person will carry your honor as their own, to trust that you want to do good, even if you stumble, to never let you compromise your ethics or integrity. And part of that is respecting the other person's right to make their own choices, and take risks for what they believe in. And that's the reason why I can, why I have to, keep a part of me that does not see that list of injuries as a personal failing, but as my best friend's right. Just as I have to respect the right for all of my crew to make the choice to sign up, to come out here and maybe die on a barren moon somewhere from Klingon disruptors or a nasty bug or falling off a cliff."

Kirk's shoulders slumped. This was not only perilous territory, it was quicksand. As he stood there arguing for his people's right to be injured, maimed or killed, he was beset by the same old doubts. How much was he deceiving himself?

"Maybe I'm wrong, Ambassador. Maybe you shouldn't trust me. Or Starfleet. And maybe all this power that this ship and these weapons give us out here will corrupt me, and your son. And maybe our friendship will too. We'll have to earn your trust. But I think that we have the right to demand your loyalty."

Sarek's eyebrow rose in a way that Kirk knew by heart from a thousand bridge shifts and companionable chess matches. You could hear the unspoken _indeed?_ That little word that could mean agreement, disagreement or just plain fascination. Often all three. He hid a quick smile. Maybe Sarek thought that Jim had all the intellectual sophistication and emotional maturity of a Vulcan two year old, but at least he was interested enough to listen in the same intense, truth provoking way that his son often did.

"I absolutely do believe that. As the Vulcan Ambassador, as maybe the next chairperson of the starfleet regulatory committee. And as Spock's father… I can think of no way that his difficult job of keeping a crew of potentially _barbaric thrill-seeking adventurers_ on the straight and narrow, gets better with less of your involvement in his life."

Sarek didn't deign to notice Kirk's repurposing of his own earlier description of the Enterprise crew.

Instead he calmly lectured,

"When you use overly emotional figures of speech to make up for logical deficiencies in your argumentation, you also bury your salient points." As Kirk had begun to learn to expect, it was unclear if this was just criticism, or also praise. _I guess I must have made at least one salient point then._ Again he made the conscious choice to see it as mainly the latter, and it occurred to him that if that was an adjustment he could get Spock to do, it might make communication between father and son a lot better.

* * *

 _Author's note: The next chapter will be the last! Please consider reviewing 3._


	4. Chapter 4

**Truth to Power - Chapter 4.**

Sarek looked at the paused video recording for a moment. It showed Spock, a hand outstretched to a hovering diamond, bathed in a kaleidoscopic wealth of colored light. He looked fascinated, almost… happy. The observation filled Sarek with several conflicting emotions, from disapproval to approval, that he stowed away for later deconstruction and meditation.

He turned to Kirk. The Human had weaved all through the emotional spectrum during their short talk - from indignant defense to proud declarations to self critical examinations. From the personal to the professional, in a way that told Sarek that the two were quite difficult to separate out here. Possibly with good reason - true ethics could only come from a personal commitment, not from an outside imposition.

"I agree that my son's presence, with its inherent dangers, here is beneficial to you, for scientific and ethical reasons. The same argument can be made, and has been made, frequently by me, for the continued and increased involvement of Vulcan in the Federation in general. Whether you are beneficial to Spock, is another matter. He is one of the pre-eminent scientific minds of his generation, but what you are doing out here is not primarily a scientific endeavour." He held up a hand to forestall Kirk's objections.

"It is, however, exploration. Exploration is a necessary precursor to more rigorous scientific study. It allows for less detached observation but often leads to contamination - induction and abduction instead of deduction. It is hard not to consider Spock's talents, all these beings' talents, wasted out here, on explorative endeavours, possibly contaminated by violence. In the end, as you have said, it becomes a matter of trust. And I agree that that is not something that can be demanded, captain. It has to be earned."

Kirk said nothing.

Sarek studied him some more and then, having clearly come to some sort of internal conclusion, he nodded once, decisively. "We shall all have to give the other more opportunities to do that."

The captain blinked. It wasn't much. Or maybe… maybe it was a very great deal indeed. He smiled. Yeah, he'd chalk this up as a win. Some serious injuries, but no fatalities.

Sarek continued, "I have just recently concluded that my previous approach to my son is not giving satisfactory results." _Really? After seventeen years of silence, that's your conclusions? Are you sure you don't need more data?_ "And this trip has further convinced me that it is necessary to pay closer attention to the disposition of Starfleet than previous. You may choose to interpret this as loyalty, captain. In the end, it is only a matter of logic."

Sarek did a few adjustment to McCoy's desk terminal, and the original, graphical interfaces were suddenly back on all screens, and the various devices started up their regular soft beeps and notification sounds. Then, having decided that their discussion was unlikely to yield anything of further interest, he simply rose and moved towards the door. As it opened before him, it revealed the intent gazes of both Spock, now awake, if slightly haggard looking, and McCoy, from the other side of the room.

Not being one to waste time, Sarek went over to Spock and McCoy. He handed the latter a datapad with no further comment. McCoy took it gingerly, but was soon lost in contemplation, nodding slightly. Then the Ambassador turned to his son and said, with no preamble whatsoever:

"It is clear that we have different opinions on your obligations towards me." Spock stiffened, McCoy looked up with an outraged, but wary, look and Kirk winced. But then Sarek continued. "I have been remiss in treating this as a source of concern, rather than a foundation for potential development and discovery. As Surak wrote: I am pleased to see that we have differences. May we together become greater than the sum of both of us."

Before any of them really had time to process this, Sarek continued,

"I had not realized that we also had different views of my obligations towards you. There is nothing that you could do that would affect those obligations. You have removed yourself from my house, I have never barred it for you. You have clearly taken the prerogative to disregard my advice, and so be it. But I will never deny it to you, should you seek it. You will find that there is very little that I would deny you, should you ask it."

His son was tired and sick, mind clouded by medication. Sarek graciously attributed the short intense surge of emotion that suddenly appeared in the long dormant filial mental bond to this.

The last few days had shown that Spock had excellent control, and, perhaps more importantly, enough confidence in this control to not shirk from situations that would challenge and test it. Too many Vulcans did this, putting what his wife insisted was pride in their control over engaging with potentially disturbing experiences.

Sarek merely noted the emotions projected at him: pain, a desire to show loyalty, an exhausted wish to stop fighting. These he recognized from his son's youth, and once he would have used that exhaustion to assert control. He refrained.

There was also surprise, an intense hope. Shame. Some of it, in Sarek's opinion, quite justified. But shame - be it his son's or his own - was a very unsteady ground to build anything on. Sarek lowered his shields, offering instead a promise that the captain would no doubt call loyalty. He was met with a longing that brought back memories from his children's early childhood, when need and devotion was offered up dangerously free. With some regret, he held back. His son offered obedience, anything, but it was not a rational choice, but one born out of exhaustion. He rejected it gently.

The Humans, even Amanda, lacked telepathic understanding of what was happening. They saw only the long, intense gaze between father and son.

"You are clearly past the stage where it is beneficial that my will supersede yours. We shall have to forge another relationship, where my obligations towards you can be fulfilled, and discover what duties on your part would be pragmatically possible and ultimately further our common goals. This, I think, can not happen in a single discussion, or a single week. I suggest that we meditate on this, and return to the matter once the Babel conference is over."

There was a stunned silence in sick bay. Sarek knew from experience that Humans liked to draw these interpersonal discussions out for hours if not days, revelling in their emotional attachments to each other. After wishing so much for direct communication, they were then surprised when it was offered. He usually had neither the time or inclination, but resolves himself to not judge his half Human son if he needed to discuss the same matter several times on their journey back from Babel.

Spock looked at him, his eyes showing a thousand questions. Then he glanced towards his captain, and somehow the intense, dramatic Human seemed to, illogical as it was, steady him. He inclined his head towards his father and said simply,

"I bow to your guidance in this matter."

A most appropriate response, Sarek thought, hopefully foreshadowing a more fruitful future for their relationship. His son's choices were far from ideal, but maybe they, and Starfleet, were ethically salvageable. He nodded towards his son and his Human companions, and strode towards the sickbay doors.

As he went past the captain, Sarek said, "I think the first item on any agenda designed to increase Vulcan activity and interest in Starfleet affairs, should be a thorough review of Starfleet's field commanders' past implementation of the prime directive. Wouldn't you agree, captain? It would, I think, be the loyal thing to do."

Kirk looked suddenly a bit uncomfortable, having gone from a sense of clear win to being dumped right back in the quicksand.

"Uh… of course, Ambassador. Of course."

* * *

 _ **THE END.**_

 _ **Your reviews make my day - please consider leaving a word or two with your thoughts. Should Humans be trusted with the power of a starship?**_ _ **How would you defend Starfleet to Ambassador Sarek?**_


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